


Murky Waters

by fencer_x



Category: Free!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hot Springs & Onsen, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: "Where are we going...?" || "Isn't it obvious? An onsen!"





	Murky Waters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oyogihodai (alder_knight)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alder_knight/gifts).



“Aren’t you freezing?”

Haruka frowned at the fuzzy image displayed on his laptop screen, the video cutting in and out. His apartment building was decades past its prime and the wiring had seen better days—so it was little surprise the internet could be iffy at times. Still, it made video chatting that much more of a chore than it was in its own right, so he hoped Rin well appreciated the lengths to which Haruka went to keep in touch.

_ “Huh?” _ The garbled image of Rin glanced down at himself, picking at the hem of the natty old tanktop he wore, which had holes in all the wrong places and looked rather moth-eaten. Could he not afford anything better? Maybe that would do for a Christmas present.  _ “What’re you talking about? It’s like 30 degrees outside! C’mon, we’ve been over this a dozen times before: December’s the start of summer down here.” _

“Ah…right.” The vague sense of deja vu washing over him told Haruka that they had indeed had this discussion in the past, but it was still hard to believe, even after experiencing for himself the nip of fall during what ought to have been the height of summer when he and Rin had visited Sydney their senior year. It helped nothing that his own heater had decided mid-December was the perfect time to go on the fritz, leaving him to huddle under his kotatsu and a pile of electric blankets for warmth. Rin gave him hell for it every conversation, and it was only because Makoto hadn’t had time to visit lately and learn he slept beneath the kotatsu that kept Haruka from being dragged bodily to the nearest electronics store for a new space heater to tide him over.

Rin sighed.  _ “You still haven’t called your landlord? You’re paying rent for a proper apartment; he’s supposed to fix it when shit breaks down!” _

Haruka shrugged. “I’ll call after the new year.” He’d be heading back to Iwatobi and his parents’ place soon enough, so there was no point in taking the time to make arrangements for a repairman to come by now.

_ “It’ll be even colder then, idiot—you’re gonna come back to a freezing apartment and be even less of a treat to talk to than usual.” _

“No one said you have to pick up,” Haruka returned coolly, not appreciating the teasing tone in Rin’s voice—especially since  _ he _ was the one always nagging Haruka to call more. Texting was annoying enough; Makoto kept his messages brief, knowing well that longer texts would be wasted on Haruka, but Nagisa liked to send what felt like  _ pages-long _ messages, replete with emoticons and gaudy stamps. And then there was Rei, who dumped text blocks into his and Makoto’s inboxes at least once a week detailing how the season was going and begging their advice on new relay team tactics. Eventually he’d just started sending them all to spam and waiting for Makoto to update him on any relevant news.

But no, neither e-mail nor texting nor even  _ phone calls _ had been good enough for Rin, who had hounded Haruka for weeks to get a headset before running to Makoto to do his dirty work for him when Haruka had dragged his feet on the matter. Now, his Thursday evenings were interrupted by an hour-long block that Rin demanded be set aside for their chats, and even though Thursdays were the day his local fish vendor had mackerel fillets half-off, he indulged his friend, because history had taught him that most of the time, it was easier to give in to what Rin wanted than to fight him on the matter. But only  _ most _ of the time.

_ “Of course I have to pick up! Makoto can’t tell me your latest times, so how else am I gonna find out?” _

“You should stop worrying about my times and focus on your own.”

_ “Oh ho? Bold words for someone who, last I checked, came in nearly  _ half _ a second behind me in the 200-meter!” _

Haruka ground his teeth, the reminder rankling; they probably just measured time differently down in Sydney—it was cheating, clear and simple. “…I had a big lunch that day. I made it up at Monday’s time trials.”

_ “The hell you did, or else you would’ve brought it up straight away!” _

“Are you calling me a liar?”

_ “Of course I am—snap a shot of the stopwatch next time and maybe I’ll believe you. Or…” _ His brows flew up, grin curling at the corners of his lips.  _ “We can always have an old-fashioned swim-off next week~” _

Next week—meaning just over a week from now, when the university would shut down for the winter holidays and send students flying to all corners of the country to spend the last few days of the year with friends and family. Makoto had already made plans with his family: a new year’s vacation in Okinawa where the twins would likely hang off of Makoto the entire time. Given that they’d been nigh inseparable growing up, the move to Tokyo had been difficult on all parties, so the trip could only do them good.

Unfortunately, it left Haruka to travel back to Iwatobi alone, and making travel arrangements was only slightly less tedious than watching paint dry—until Rin had swooped in to take advantage. He was heading back to Iwatobi as well to spend the holidays with Gou and his mother and would be flying to Tottori via Tokyo from Sydney. He’d initially suggested they all three book tickets together, but after learning that Makoto would be traveling with his family, he had kindly offered to book Haruka’s ticket for him. “Just leave it to me,” he’d boasted confidently. “I’ll take care of everything.”

And then, just like that, he had been roped into stuffing himself into a seat next to Matsuoka Rin for an hour and a half—a situation he probably could have handled with reasonable aplomb this time last year but which now left him stricken with nerves.

_ Nerves _ . He didn’t get  _ nervous _ ; little even roused him to the point of excitement. A flash sale on mackerel heads, the placid surface of an empty pool when he was in charge of locking up after practice, the grit of the starting block rasping over the soles of his feet as he crouched into a track start—these were the sorts of things that got his heart rate up, left his stomach feeling light and floaty and just this side of nauseous in the best way possible.  _ Anticipation _ —that’s what it was.

But when Rin casually suggested a flight together, an hour-plus stitched to each other’s side in the quiet, dark intimacy of a plane cabin? It wasn’t anticipation flooding his veins now—it was  _ dread _ .

Things with Rin…well, they were strange right now. No, strange was putting it too mildly. Awkward, stiff, disjointed maybe—and it was difficult to tell whose fault it was. Theirs had never been the easiest relationship to maintain, to be sure; it lacked the uncomplicated ease of being friends with Makoto, the comfortable fluidity of being friends with Nagisa, or the quiet grace of being friends with Rei. He and Rin were…just  _ different _ . Their relationship was the energy of a fusion reaction, oil and water—elements so different, so dynamically opposite, that they shouldn’t work together the way they did, but when they came together it was  _ explosive _ . Sometimes in a grand way—other times in a way that left them fuming and refusing to speak to one another for weeks. Rin could get under his skin like no other, but that had always been for the best: because it meant no one else could  _ move _ him like Rin, no one else could  _ spark _ that edge, so the difficulty of their relationship was actually not so difficult at all.

Except it wasn’t  _ just _ that. If it were, he could deal with it easily; he could take Rin, fold him up, and place him in the proper, Rin-shaped compartment of his life he was meant for. Here was where he kept Makoto,  _ here _ was where Nagisa lived,  _ there _ was where Rei was meant to be, and then Rin, exactly where he ought to be and where Haruka knew to find him.

But Rin wasn’t just conflict and charisma and opposites attracting—he was also  _ friendship _ and  _ joy _ and  _ a goal _ , charging ahead but never  _ too _ far, always looking back and extending a hand if Haruka lagged. He was a comfortable presence at Haruka’s side, a shining beacon before him and a raging wave behind. He was everywhere and all around and impossible to miss. He was becoming  _ too many things _ , and Haruka didn’t know how to deal with that.

It had been the night before Rin’s flight—he would leave in a taxi for Tottori Airport in the morning, then fly to Haneda, then a short shuttle to Narita, and the long, dull flight to Sydney. But that had been another twelve hours away, and for now, Rin was still there, still  _ theirs _ , so they celebrated. They drank oolong tea and sparkling cider to his health, they squabbled over which appetizers to order next, and they exchanged e-mail addresses and apartment room numbers and promises to write or call or text whenever possible. Haruka had watched it all happen, feeling oddly apart from the cheer, and he’d wondered if this had been how Yamazaki had felt all those years ago, having to feign dispassion at the thought of one of his closest friends running away.

And try as he might to remind himself this was for the best, that Rin would leave with a clearer mind and firmer focus on his goals, that he  _ wasn’t _ running away but simply setting his feet on a different path that would lead him to the same finale as Haruka…it still felt like he was losing something. That Rin was taking something  _ away _ , and what if he got to Tokyo and faltered? What if he just wasn’t as dedicated as Rin in achieving his dream? What if Tokyo became  _ his _ Sydney, where he leapt in without thinking and was overwhelmed, lost faith, drowned?

Maybe Rin had read these concerns on his face—or maybe he hadn’t; Rin could be really thick at times, focused on the superficial and blind to the deeper undercurrents rushing just below the surface. Whatever his reasons, he’d snapped a hand out after they’d seen Makoto into his taxi and Rei and Nagisa off to the station and tugged Haruka insistently into the alley next to the restaurant. He’d cursed softly, nearly tripping on a loose brick, and Rin had yanked him close, their chests bumping, for a hug. And of course he’d allowed it, because he couldn’t exactly say  _ no _ when Rin had him locked in a death grip.

They’d stood there long enough for the hug to become awkward, but when it became clear Rin wasn’t going to let go until Haruka returned the gesture, he’d gingerly slipped his arms under Rin’s to splay his hands flat across the broad places of his back, and Rin had relaxed with a vocal sigh that sounded husky with relief. He’d then tightened his arms around Haruka’s neck, inhaled deeply, and mumbled, “Don’t you dare stop, okay? I won’t forgive you if you stop this time, so you can’t stop for  _ anything _ .”

“…I won’t…”

“I’m serious—if you feel like you want to, or if you’re not sure, or if you have a bad day and just feel like shit, you call, okay? Or text, or e-mail, or get out a pen and paper. Whatever. I  _ need _ you. I need you to be there, so…so I’ll be there for you too.”

And somehow, that had been exactly the right thing to say at exactly the right moment, because Haruka had whispered  _ okay _ into the fabric of the thick coat Rin wore against the chill of early spring and finally  _ meant _ it.

That had been the last time he’d seen Rin in the flesh—their next meeting had been weeks later, their first awkward Skype conversation that had taken twenty minutes to get set up, and Rin had sidestepped any mention of that moment to dive right into regaling Haruka with everything he’d already read about in the few e-mails Rin had blasted their little group of friends with. It felt like he was twelve again, except this time everything was meant for him and properly  _ delivered _ to him, not through an intermediary like Sousuke. Rin’s eyes had been bright and excited, and even when he complained about his time trial performance or how he was hovering near the bottom ranks for the individual medley, he still had a fire blazing within that hadn’t been banked by failure.

There had been moments, just the odd one now and then, where he’d caught his fingers twitching, wishing that Rin were right there in front of him bubbling over with news and needling Haruka with questions. Wishing that when they signed off, instead of a wave and  _ G’night! _ , Rin might lunge forward with another of his bone-crushing hugs and spill out everything he whitewashed over with smiles and grinning boasts.

He’d thought he could handle it, that maybe distance would make it  _ better _ , would let him recover from the whiplash that came with close contact with Matsuoka Rin and work on improving his times, sharpening his focus—but instead, each time Rin’s face popped up on the screen, there was a tiny, slicing  _ ache _ in his chest. The knowledge that there were parts of Rin he didn’t know, might  _ never _ know, that Rin was growing and changing before his eyes, and some part of Haruka  _ still _ hated that.  _ Change _ .

Now, though, he was going to be confronted with that change, stuffed into a too-narrow seat next to a Rin he didn’t know and who might not know  _ him _ either. Ever since that last meal, that last moment, that last brush of contact and the whispered promises exchanged, he’d recognized there was something different between them. And paradoxically, he both did and didn’t want to know what it was. Because once it had a name, once he defined it—then that change would suddenly be real and permanent, and no amount of  _ good _ change could possibly make up for the horror of having to accept that things would never, could never be the same again.

Alas, the choice had been taken from him. Even if he’d protested the travel arrangements, Rin would have overruled him, or else demanded to know  _ why _ Haruka didn’t want to fly with him—and that would be even worse, having to explain himself. So he’d grudgingly accepted the offer and resigned himself to the great unknown without at least the luxury of a few days back home to prepare himself to face Rin again.

Not for the first time, he tossed around the idea of discussing the matter with Makoto—but he could barely wrap his mind around whatever was or wasn’t going on between him and Rin  _ himself _ ; how could he possibly be expected to explain to someone else everything he’d felt and worried about over the past six months? Besides, if Makoto hadn’t noticed on his own, perhaps he didn’t want to talk about it either.

Haruka couldn’t blame him.

But weeks had gone by, now, since Rin had suggested they travel back to Iwatobi together, and every time he’d brought up the travel plans since then, Rin had assured him he would get to it the next weekend, or he was waiting for an e-mail from a travel agent, or he had the ticket information secured but had simply forgotten to forward the e-mail. He knew he probably should trust Rin to have a handle on everything, since he’d more or less managed their trip to Australia just fine (save for that damn hotel…), but he hated traveling as a rule, so this was simply another annoyance to deal with.

“Next week? You bought the tickets?”

_ “Mmhmm! I’ve got the boarding passes printed off here, lemme see…” _ Rin rummaged through a stack of documents beside the computer, fit pectorals peeking out from the neck of his tank top as he leaned forward, then whipped out a paper for show.  _ “Here we go! So I get into Narita on the 22nd, and then we’ve got our flight into Tottori first thing in the morning on the 24th.” _

He beamed, and Haruka just gaped, groping for words. “Wh—the 24th? That’s two days later than we agreed!”

Rin huffed, visibly flushing.  _ “Well—it’s not my fault! There’s a joint practice with two other universities the weekend before and my coach practically ordered me to hang around until it finished!” _

“Tha—fine, but why aren’t we leaving as soon as you arrive?” They could easily arrange to meet up at Haneda, and there was a fairly frequent shuttle puttering back and forth between the international and domestic airports. Why had Rin arranged such a long layover? “I told my parents I’d be home before the Emperor’s birthday—it’s their only day off until new year’s.”

And Rin winced at this, looking properly penitent. _ “I…damn, I’m sorry—I didn’t realize… Just, it’s cheaper this way, and the tickets are non-refundable, so… _ ” He clapped his hands before his face, ducking his head.  _ “I really am sorry, seriously! I didn’t know you had plans with your folks, and my mom just told me to make sure I was home by the time Iwatobi breaks for the winter holidays…” _

Haruka sighed as loudly as he could, lips pursed and gaze narrowed. “…I hope you don’t think you can just freeload at my place during your layover. You should have planned better.” It was a laughable threat; Rin would probably weasel his way back into Haruka’s good graces somehow, or else just show up on his doorstep uninvited regardless and pass out underneath the kotatsu after the long flight.

_ “Like I wanna crash in your freezing apartment! I can make my own arrangements, you know.” _

“Could have fooled me…”

_ “Relax, Haru! If you want, I’ll apologize to your folks for keeping you—I’ll even treat you to dinner when I get in!” _ He then grinned,  _ “Or I could let you win our first race? Just to show how  _ truly _ badly I feel for the mix-up.” _

“The hell you will.”

_ “Fine fine—I’ll give you a five-second head start instead. That way when I—” _

But Rin’s offer was cut off by a sharp  _ BOOP! _ as Haruka disconnected the video call.

* * *

_ /Landed at Narita. Starving. Want to grab lunch? Can’t check-in at hotel yet so let me leave my stuff at your place and we can head out. Found a place online I think you’ll like. My treat. Be there in two hours. Won’t let you say no./ _

Haruka frowned at the text on his phone, rereading it for the tenth time as he huddled under the kotatsu. A cold front has breezed in overnight, dropping the lows another few degrees until the temperatures hovered just above freezing. The weatherman had assured viewers during the morning newscast that they’d be back in the high single digits by the weekend, but just now it felt  _ freezing _ . So, much as he hated being whisked away at a moment’s notice without being consulted, it would be nice to get out of the apartment and be  _ warm _ for a change.

The familiar soft  _ pin-pon  _ of his doorbell called his attention, and he stiffened in place, twisting around to glare at the door. If he squinted hard, he was sure he could make out Rin’s form on the other side, shifting nervously on his feet and likely dwarfed by the oversized bag he would have slung over his shoulders. With a grunting sigh, he padded over the tatami mats and leaned onto the handle, steeling himself for the incoming chill to invite his guest inside.

“Yo!” Rin greeted, far too brightly for someone who’d just stepped off a ten-hour flight, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold, breath misting in the air.

“…You’re late.”

Rin blinked, glancing down at his watch and frowning at the face. “By five minutes.  _ Maybe _ .” He shrugged and flashed a grin. “But I’m here now! So pack your bag and let’s go!”

Haruka’s brows drew together in confusion as Rin shouldered him aside, toeing off his shoes and snatching up the duffel bag Haruka used for practice. “Pack a bag? Just for…”

And then it all fell into place. Rin’s insistence he make the arrangements, the supposed mix-up with the travel dates, and the fact that he was presently stuffing what looked like half of Haruka’s wardrobe into a travel bag. “Oi— _ where _ are we going?”

He tried to keep his words sharp, but his anger was blunted when it slammed up against Rin’s almost palpable excitement as his grin widened, toothy and genuine and far too knowing for his own good. “Isn’t it obvious? An  _ onsen _ !”

* * *

This felt all too familiar. Everything, from the abrupt departure to the massive bags slung over their shoulders to Rin’s zipped lips and promises that  _ you’ll find out when we get there  _ echoed that whirlwind trip to Sydney—and not in a good way. Rin seemed to thoroughly enjoy throwing Haruka off-balance like this, but the feeling was assuredly  _ not _ mutual. He told himself it was just the weather: the cold had dulled his irritation and slowed his reaction times, and that was the  _ only _ reason he let himself be dragged from his apartment to the station and then to a changeover and then to  _ another _ changeover before they eventually settled into their seats on a rapid bound for Hakone.

An onsen, Rin had said—his only concession to revealing their destination. Where had Rin gotten the ridiculous notion that Haruka would even  _ enjoy _ such an excursion? Stinking springs and sweltering open-air baths? He’d rather just soak in the cramped tub in his apartment.

But he’d learned over the years that, when Rin got like this—when he got that  _ look _ in his eye that spoke of stubborn determination—there was no moving him, and like fighting the water, the more he raged and dug in his heels, the quicker he’d tire and the less fluid he’d become. Rin’s excitement and energy was a wave carrying him off; better to give in, to ride it until it died away, and then he could start swimming back to shore.

Next to him, Rin sighed softly—then slumped to the side, dead to the world as he dozed against Haruka’s shoulder. Clearly the exhaustion from the plane ride had finally caught up to him, and with a couple of hours to spare before they arrived at…wherever they were meant to arrive, he’d understandably been lulled to sleep. Haruka briefly considered shrugging his shoulder to shove him off, lest Rin get the absurd idea he wasn’t still annoyed at being manhandled onto a train carriage without explanation, but he was finally warm now, and the train rocked with a comfortable rhythm that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. So he dropped the tension from his shoulders and rested his forehead against the windowpane at his side to watch the countryside fly by as the train barreled out of the metropolitan area.

Just under two hours later, Rin’s phone quietly buzzed—an alarm going off, apparently—and Haruka gently jostled him awake. Frowning as if he’d forgotten where he was, Rin blinked blearily around the carriage until he realized he’d been resting against Haruka, then pulled away with a muttered, “Oh, sorry…”

“Your phone was buzzing.”

“Mm, yeah; we’re almost there.” He shifted from his seat, reaching to draw down first Haruka’s and then his own bag from the overhead railing. “Hope you like bus rides.”

As if he had a choice. They stepped onto the crowded platform and then threaded their way down to the bus rotary, waiting in line with a pair of older women just heading home with the spoils of an afternoon spent shopping. He didn’t recognize the station, though they were well into Kanagawa by now, and at least Rin seemed to know where they were going, even if he did have to keep checking his phone every five minutes to keep them on the right track.

The bus spit them out another forty-five minutes later in what felt like the middle of nowhere, nothing but gravel roads and dense, still-leafy forest all around. Rin readjusted his grip on his bag, though, and plodded resolutely forward, leaving Haruka little choice but to scramble after him, and just as they rounded the first bend beyond the bus stop, an exquisite villa seemed to blossom from the foliage.

The early-winter sunlight was starting to fail, and the villa towered several stories tall, warm and inviting and spilling golden light from flickering lanterns strung up along the entry face. A cut-stone walkway snaked around to the entrance, and after raking an approving glance over the place, Rin nodded in satisfaction to himself and marched for the main doors. Trying not to gape at the imposing, impressive facade, Haruka quietly followed, eyes flicking every which way, ears pricked, nose twitching—he could  _ smell _ mackerel sizzling in a pan, somewhere, and his mouth watered.

An attendant welcomed them with downturned eyes and a polite bow as they stepped into the front lobby, and a middle-aged woman in a severe kimono with slick-backed hair stood waiting to receive them at the front desk.

Rin navigated the check-in process with the same casual ease he’d demonstrated in Sydney, and not for the first time, Haruka envied the way he seemed to glide through life, unruffled and confident. Haruka would surely have bungled something like this, from start to finish. This sort of pomp was wasted on him, though he could certainly appreciate it, and if he’d been the type to enjoy hot-water soaks, a local  _ sentou _ would have suited him just fine. Rin by contrast looked like he swanned into establishments such as this regularly—and what did Haruka know of his life abroad? Maybe he  _ did _ .

Would he ever stop being impressed by Rin? Would the guy ever stop seeming so damn  _ brilliant _ and  _ blinding _ ? Sometimes he didn’t even seem human anymore, shifting and evolving into something  _ more _ , and Haruka had to fight against reaching out, groping for something familiar to cling to, to drag him back to safer waters. That was all he ever seemed to do: hold back the people he cared for. He was supposed to be stepping forward of his own accord now, but bits of him still balked.

And perhaps that was why he  _ needed _ Rin to sweep him away like this, to drag him forward when he dug his heels in. He didn’t know what they were here for, why Rin thought he needed to kidnap Haruka and spirit him two prefectures away into the woods, but…sometimes Rin seemed to know him better than Haruka knew himself. If Rin thought this trip necessary, he supposed he could hear him out—and at least have some of whatever that mackerel dish was while he was at it.

They were escorted down several long hallways and up a steep, winding staircase to the second floor. It was dim and quiet and smelled sharply of pine and bath salts—like an onsen. Their suite was located at the end of another turn of hallways, and Haruka stifled a quiet gasp as the attendant ushered them inside. It was gorgeous, no contest: the blend of old world and new lent a soft elegance to the room while keeping a clear Japanese style, and the combination of low lighting and dark woods made the light linens practically glow. A low-set kotatsu was bounded on all sides by floor pillows for relaxing, and a glassed-in balcony overlooked a gully and the forested slopes beyond, a private bath already filled and murky with minerals and salts.

But the elegant, restrained beauty of the accoutrements was marred by the glaring presence of but  _ one _ double bed. Not a pair of singles, not even an extra futon in sight—just one bed that, for two full-grown men, would quickly become crowded and cramped, as they’d learned from experience.

He glanced over at Rin, expecting to see horror scrawled over his features—but Rin was distracted, wandering about the room and nodding politely as the attendant explained the details of their stay and checkout time the next morning. It only hit him here that Rin was not angry, was not squawking protests as he had in Sydney, because he’d  _ known _ . He searched for an opening to drag Rin aside and grill him on the bedding arrangements, but Rin wouldn’t even meet his eye, still smiling and conversing softly with the attendant.

Biting back the growl of discontent building in his throat, Haruka sidled over to the private bath built into the dark wood-paneled floor of the glassed-in balcony patio. Walls to either side curved up and met overhead, and the forest view was impressive. They were too far south for this place to see much snow, but it must have been quite a sight on the rare occasion.

Mounting the steps, he circled the bath once, then dipped a finger in to test its temperature—and was delighted to find it lukewarm instead of pipping hot. Perhaps this had been Rin’s way of making up for the bedding arrangements, as he doubted the staff of such an impressive villa as this would have ever let the water in a private bath grow tepid.

And strangely enough, it  _ did _ almost make up for the bed situation: Rin knew Haruka hated soaking in hot water, had complained about it vocally on multiple occasions even, and yet he’d taken the trouble to ask the room attendants to be sure and keep the bathwater cool. It was a thoughtful gesture, and Haruka felt dizzy all over again from the whiplash. Rin was utterly unpredictable—so much so it often frightened. One moment he was dragging Haruka down the stairs with no explanation as to their destination, and the next he was taking pains to ensure that they could  _ both _ enjoy this get-away, even when it, as Rin liked to complain, ‘totally defeats the purpose of a hot springs if the water isn’t  _ hot _ ’.

“Oi—don’t go diving in just yet,” a voice warned sharply, and Haruka frowned as he glanced over his shoulder, feeling like a scolded child. Rin had his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing expression on his face.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Well you got that look in your eye.”

“What  _ look _ ?”

Rin sauntered up beside him, drawing his fingers through the water, then flicked them in Haruka’s face, sprinkling him with droplets. “You know what I’m talking about,” he snorted. “Like—well, like  _ you _ look whenever someone shows you a body of water deep enough to cover your shins.”

And that made no sense, but Rin was already clapping him on the shoulder and turning away, motioning toward a sliding door at the opposite end of the room. “Bath first, scrub off this travel grime—then we can soak.”

Haruka glanced down, giving himself a once-over and feeling a flash of offense at the implication he had any of this ‘travel grime’ Rin spoke of, but then supposed Rin meant it more in reference to himself, since he  _ had _ just been traveling for likely going on twelve or more hours now. How he was even still awake was a mystery: the nap on the train coming her couldn’t have been all that refreshing, so Haruka would have to be on guard to be sure Rin didn’t drown if he nodded off once they slipped into the bath.

“You gonna just stand there spacing out all day? Come on—” And here, he actually snatched up Haruka’s wrist, giving a gentle tug. “The sooner we scrub down, the sooner we can soak. That’s what you want, right?”

“We?” Haruka parroted gamely as Rin led him into the bathing area, which gleamed with inset lighting glinting off of dark tile. Two bathing stools were stacked under the sink, and an octagonal all-glass shower stood imposingly beside a claw-footed porcelain tub that looked a bit out of place in an otherwise traditional Japanese room. Rin released his hold and pulled out the stools, setting them up alongside the western wall where a pair of stainless steel spouts curled out from a tangle of exposed plumbing.

He reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it off over his head and tossing it without looking squarely into a woven birch hamper before tucking his thumbs under the waistband of his pants. Haruka opened his mouth, ready to offer Rin first shower, but Rin was already down to a pair of black boxer-briefs and socks, inspecting a shelf of soaps and lotions set into the wall and beckoning Haruka forward to offer his opinion. “You won’t give me shit if I pick a girly soap, right? The stuff for guys here always has menthol or something in it and it stings my nose.”

“…Whatever,” he replied weakly, feeling drained—as if Rin was siphoning energy from him. He would not, it seemed, be getting out of this experience without making a scene, and while this would generally be of little concern to Haruka, he didn’t want to go ten rounds with Rin right now. In fact, he didn’t want to go  _ any _ rounds—he hadn’t seen Rin in over six months, their longest time apart since reuniting, and…it had weighed. Weighed to a degree Haruka had never realized it would, because he and Rin weren’t  _ like _ that. He didn’t need to see Rin every day, the way he felt a little empty and tired if he went too long without seeing Makoto.

But eight months…even with weekly video chats, it just wasn’t the same. He couldn’t feed on the electric energy between them over Skype, couldn’t recoil whenever Rin invariable got too handsy or slap-happy as he was wont to do. They couldn’t get into arguments over the tiniest matter just to have an excuse to ‘take it to the pool’.

So having him back here, finally close enough to reach out and touch if he wanted…it was something he wanted to take a moment and breathe in, appreciate. Cherish—because too soon, there would be an ocean between them again. For once, he didn’t want to race Rin; he just wanted to enjoy the water with him, loose the tension and float along on the wake Rin left behind wherever he went with his bold, grand gestures.

He sighed vocally, making sure Rin caught the echoes of his reluctance bouncing off the walls, and pulled his shirt and undershirt off as one, dropping them in the hamper atop Rin’s clothes. Rin was already filling buckets for their use, and steam began to blessedly fog the mirrors. He didn’t want to spend a half hour in here staring at their nude reflections awkwardly going through the ministrations of bathing.

Shower nozzles craned overhead, and after adjusting the temperature on his side of the stall to something less scorching than what Rin likely preferred, he settled on the stool, a wash towel over his lap, and leaned his head forward to wet it.

They scrubbed and shampooed in silence, the only sounds echoing off the walls the hiss of the showerheads or splash of wash cloths being dipped into the buckets. It was nice, actually; he hadn’t bathed with anyone else like this in a long time, and the one trip he’d taken with Rin and the rest of Iwatobi to a public bathhouse had been rather more raucous than Haruka preferred. This kind of quiet companionship was a rare treat—rarer still with Rin, and that triggered warning bells.

“Ri—”

“Here.” Rin held up a pink loofah ball, covered in suds. “Turn around, I’ll do your back.”

Haruka blinked, taken aback at the offer, and considered refusing—there were back-scrubbing brushes in a stand by the door, after all—but Rin was already motioning for him to turn around, clearly intent on doing things the proper way, so once again, he gave himself up to the flow of the rushing river that was Rin. Certainly, as with many rivers, the danger of meeting up with a waterfall was imminent, but he was still too off-balance, still too lost in the moment to put up much of a fight.

Somehow he never  _ had _ managed to tell Rin no. Not in the end. He’d tried it at 12, but he’d still wound up roped into the relay, and he’d tried it at 18, and  _ that _ had gotten him dragged to the other side of the planet. So until he found his footing again, until he figured out just what Rin was about, until he finally went over that waterfall he felt himself being swept towards…he would grant Rin his concessions.

He shifted around on the stool, washcloth draped over his lap and back hunched—and a moment later came the soft scratching of the loofah’s exfoliating material being brushed over the planes of his shoulders. Rin painted his back with suds from his neck down his spine to the small of his back, then fanned out in broad strokes. It was calming—the easy rhythm and brushing of rough material over muscles still sore from time trials earlier in the week, and he bit back a sharp gasp when Rin began kneading his shoulder in time with the scrubbing strokes of the loofah. He unconsciously craned his neck, inviting Rin to continue his ministrations along the stiff line where shoulder blended into neck, and Rin snorted softly, “You really are like a cat sometimes…”

Haruka didn’t know what that meant, nor did he care—Rin clearly knew a thing or two about sports massages and was admittedly a better hand at it than the managers on his team.

The loofah hit the floor with a squelching splat, and then Rin was pressing broad, warm palms to his shoulder blades, working his thumbs under the wings and pressing upward before sliding to knead along the line of his spine, tracing the knobs and ridges.

“You’re still too skinny, Haru…” he muttered, tutting to himself, and the sudden rush of warm, close air told Haruka he’d drawn in close, chest almost flush with his back, to pour teasing admonishments into his ear. “Someone isn’t sticking to the diet I had our nutritionist draw up for him.”

“We have our own nutritionist,” Haruka protested, Rin’s body heat igniting a flush to his skin that started at his collarbone and crept slowly up his neck to pink his ears. Rin’s fingers continued to knead back muscles stiff from disuse—two days into vacation, and already he felt himself going soft—sliding out again over soap-slick skin to poke and prod. It almost tickled, and he fought against squirming. “What does it matter? My times are fine.”

“I don’t need your times to be  _ fine _ , Nanase. I need them to be  _ world-class _ .” He punctuated his demand with a particularly rough snap to his wrists that caught Haruka by the hipbones, fingers gripping to hold him in place while Rin brushed his thumbs along a line of muscle in the lower back, blunt fingernails tracing the dimple where muscle blended into muscle. “It’s lonely at the top, otherwise.”

Haruka felt the breath catch in his throat, sensitive to the rough handling and barely repressed whine in Rin’s voice, the tone he took on when he was just shy of wheedling someone to get his way. As if Haruka needed reminding that they’d silently but mutually agreed that, while the path they walked might diverge for a stretch, their goal was the same, and it was no longer meant to be one shoving the other forward or one as a beacon to be chased by the other, but a  _ pair _ to race headlong side by side. In every sense, he would not be here, chasing his dream, were it not for Rin—and he hated the idea that Rin might not understand that.

He angled his arms backward, covering Rin’s hands at his hips with his own, and gave a weak squeeze of reminder. “…I’ll get there, even without your terrible diet.”

Rin’s fingers clenched a hair, fingertips pressing into the flesh to leave little white imprints behind, and when Rin spoke again, his voice was a bit raspy. “Screw you, it’s a great diet.”

“Then  _ you _ eat it.” He adjusted his towel and cleared his throat with a sharp cough. “…Turn around.”

Rin released his grip as if he’d been shocked. “Huh?”

Haruka glanced over his shoulder, frowning. Rin wore an expression like a naughty child caught sneaking a sweet when he was meant to be saving his appetite for dinner. “Your back. You’re finished, right? I’ll do you now.”

“Oh—yeah, sure.” He ducked his head. “Thanks.”

Haruka waited for Rin to twist around on his stool before he did the same, keeping his knees locked together and shifting uncomfortably. Of course  _ now _ would be the perfect time for his dick to decide it could get behind a warm body and slick hands sliding over his skin—right before he was meant to give Rin a scrub-down. If they’d still been 12, Rin might have laughed brightly and called him a perv, or teased him about unavoidable drag in the water—meaningless frivolity—but they were adults, well beyond bathroom humor, and Haruka had never been quite comfortable with these sorts of situations to begin with.

It was just—Rin was always  _ touching _ , and somewhere along the way, Haruka had begun to respond to that, in most every sense of the word. It irritated—the flushing, the light nausea, the aggravating way he  _ enjoyed it _ during the moment, only to be left feeling hollow and incomplete when Rin withdrew. He’d wondered, before, if he just didn’t react well to tactility in general—but the twins practically climbed him like a jungle gym, and Nagisa was always hugging or hanging off of anything that moved. Still, the odd embrace or brush of skin from his friends and family never left him feeling quite so torn as Rin did.

With Rin…it felt like he was always trying to  _ say _ something whenever he touched Haruka. Every high-five, every wrist grab, every shoulder bump—every hug the last time they would see each other for months, hugs that went on too long and felt too  _ real  _ and didn’t feel so much awkward and nauseating as warm and bubbly and hopeful. He  _ hated _ it—why couldn’t Rin just be like everyone else and say what he wanted, upfront? Interpreting wasn’t his strong suit, and Rin could be as enigmatic as he pleased when he was in a mood. It was annoying.

He snatched up the loofah where it lay limp on the shower floor and proceeded to aggressively scrub Rin’s back with none of the gentle attention he’d received, grumbling to himself all the while until Rin had to practically shout to get his attention: “Oi, I’m clean already!”

Haruka flinched, wincing. “…Sorry. I was…” Distracted, he didn’t say.

Rin gave him a curious look, then shrugged, and doused himself once more with a spray of water before standing in place, his towel cinched tight about his waist with one hand. “Come on, you’ll feel better once you’re submerged, I’m sure.”

Haruka longed for that same degree of confidence, because he’d been feeling out of sorts since Rin showed up on his doorstep, but he quickly followed suit, watching the soap suds sluice down the drain after a quick rinse and padding after Rin back into the bedroom. He stifled a shiver—it was chillier out here than in the humid, close air of the washroom—and tried not to stare as Rin gingerly stepped down into the inset tub, whipping off his towel and folding it first in half and then in quarters before setting it aside to act as a headrest. Nudity had never particularly concerned him—it was just part and parcel of being a swimmer, and who had the time or energy for modesty in the locker room?—but he was still overly conscious of the embarrassing state of his lower half and a bit irritated that, here too, Rin seemed to have more control over the situation than he did.

Only when Rin was fully submerged, eyes sliding shut as he settled in, did Haruka finally follow, grateful again that the water wasn’t piping hot. He’d borne it in the shower, but if he was going to soak, he needed something more on the tepid side of things. The water sloshed and slapped against the sides of the tub as he stepped in, murky with salts and minerals that were likely touted as wonderful for the complexion. They mostly stank, though, and Haruka wrinkled his nose as he settled onto the bench, the water coming up just below his shoulders.

Silence again, now without even the comfortable hiss of flowing water or plopping drips from leaky faucets. Rin still had his eyes closed, head slumped back and neck cushioned on his towel and water rippling around him with each measured inhalation. Had he fallen asleep again? Haruka tried mimicking his relaxation, scrunching his eyes closed and telling himself he was  _ comfortable _ , that any niggling thoughts or concerns about why Rin had brought him here could wait until later, or perhaps needn’t be brought up at all. Was it wrong for a friend to want to spend some quality time with a friend?

Perhaps not—but this wasn’t a sleep-over or even dinner and catch-up conversation. This was the both of them, alone, hundreds of kilometers from anyone they knew, sharing a room—sharing a  _ bed _ —when they both knew that they never had had and never  _ would _ have the kind of relationship they shared with others. Haruka wasn’t going to share a smirking fist bump with Rin any time soon, and Rin wasn’t going to suddenly magically understand Haruka from stem to stern. Which was fine;  _ really _ . But whatever they were, it needed to be clear: and right now, their relationship was about as clear as the very water they sat soaking in.

And Haruka had had quite enough.

“…Why are we here?”

Rin laughed, a bright snorting chuckle that he had to stifle with a hand to his mouth, and he ran fingers through his hair to separate out the strands, brushing them back away from his face where they fell in disordered chaos to feather over his cheeks and jaw. “I’m impressed you lasted this long without grilling me for answers.” He grinned, a bit wryly. “I honestly expected you to hound me the whole way like in Australia—I probably would’ve given in, actually, but…it left me time to get my thoughts together, so thanks for holding out.”

He felt like he ought to say  _ you’re welcome _ , but the whole reaction was just baffling. He’d expected resigned irritation and a grudging  _ fine fine _ —not chagrined amusement, and those warning bells from before began trembling again.

Rin’s shoulders were hunched forward, and he was staring down into the murky water like it held the secrets of the universe. “I’m…not like you, Haru. I have to understand everything—how it works, what makes it tick, why things are the way they are, because that’s how I conquer: I’m a theory freak, and…” He shrugged. “Well, things don’t come naturally to me like they do for you.”

Haruka opened his mouth to protest that nothing came naturally to him—he  _ hated _ that implication: that he was a genius, a prodigy. He only wanted to be  _ ordinary _ , and still after all these years, Rin insisted he was anything but. “…It’s not that simple,” he said instead, because at least Rin might understand that.

“Yeah, but—still, we’re different. And maybe you’re okay with…just letting the water carry you where it will, or whatever poetic bull you call it—” Haruka bristled, a soft protesting  _ oi _ on his lips, but Rin continued, “—but…I can’t do that. I have to  _ know _ .” He took a breath. “So we’re here so I can figure it out.”

Where had all that confidence from before gone? Or had he never  _ really  _ had any to begin with? Haruka was terrible at this, seeing the truth beneath the facade, and he worried what might lie beneath when Rin finally rendered himself open and naked before him. If it meant  _ he’d _ have to be as well. “…Figure out what?”

And here, Rin didn’t answer for a long while—so long that Haruka almost didn’t  _ want _ him to answer, because what was he working himself up for?  _ If I’m really cut out for pro-swimming, if  _ you’re _ really cut out for pro-swimming, if it’s finally time to leave our relay in the past and focus on our individual careers— _

“Whether or not I’m in love with you.”

There came a twanging  _ plip _ , a water droplet sliding over the ridge of one cheek and down the line of his jaw to shatter the surface with ripples as it crashed through, and suddenly they were twelve again and Rin was in his face, telling him with palpable excitement that he was  _ going  _ to swim the relay, that he was  _ going  _ to be their freestyle anchor, and that the was  _ going _ to see a sight he’d never seen before—his life changing, on another’s whim, with no input from him whatsoever. He could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears, migraine-inducing and drowning out all coherent thought until everything boiled down to just  _ different _ .

He’d known something was different, that something had changed—maybe he’d even known that  _ this _ was it; but saying it out loud had given it life, now, and how could Rin just  _ say _ that, so easily? How could he embrace change so casually as to just leave a confession hanging there between them, with no  _ consideration _ for—

“…You really don’t have to look like that,” Rin reminded with a pinched smile, brows drawn together in sympathy. “I’m the one out here to soul search; I never said  _ you _ had to.”

“That’s…” Ridiculous, that’s what it was. Because what had Rin expected? For Haruka to just nod his head and gesture for him to get on with it? Rin had involved him, intimately, in his own tangled struggles with only a handful of words casually dropped into Haruka’s lap, so how could he expect him to not ‘look like that’, whatever  _ that _ meant?

Rin slumped back against the edge of the tub again, staring up at the ceiling and blinking in a slow, lazy rhythm that betrayed how exhausted he must still be. “Like I said, I have to…figure things out the hard way. Maybe understanding stuff comes easy to you, or maybe—I dunno, maybe you don’t think about things that deeply, but…I can’t stand it anymore, not knowing. So.” He shrugged. “Sorry I had to drag you along, but it was the only thing I could think of.”

He glared at Rin, trying to bore holes through his skull and peer into his mind, because nothing he was saying made sense, and worse so: it felt so  _ one-sided _ . Again. Just like in Sydney, here Rin was, sitting an arm’s-length away, pouring himself out and asking Haruka to just accept it, not to question it, when Haruka was already so full himself he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

Maybe he did this kind of thing because he assumed that since Haruka so rarely spoke up or demonstrated his own uncertainty, that he was an empty vessel, waiting to be filled at Rin’s leisure—when it was just the opposite. He was full to  _ bursting _ —emotion and memory and everything that went into  _ feeling _ expertly sealed away so he wouldn’t have to deal with it overtly but ran no risk of losing it either. Except now, he was in very real danger of overflowing if Rin  _ pushed _ too hard, and the thought of that paralyzed him with fear. Nothing good ever came of emotional outbursts; they just left you feeling emptier and more lost than before—and how did Rin not understand that?

This sent a sharp jab spearing through his chest—and he realized only then that he was actually  _ furious _ with Rin right now, a bubbling anger that only Rin could draw from him. “No,” he snapped, curt and barbed, and he quickly rephrased when a look of hurt flashed across Rin’s features, inspiring an irritating pang of regret at his wording. “That’s not—I don’t just understand things easily…” How to explain? How to get Rin to stop  _ pushing _ and  _ pouring _ without coming off weak in the process?

“…Then you do a hell of a job making it  _ look _ easy…”

He’d never meant to, in that case: he just…did things at his own pace. Took the path of least resistance. Was it any surprise he might seem to navigate life with ease when he tried to do just that?

_ To figure out whether or not I’m in love with you _

And what did  _ that _ mean? Why had Rin needed to drag him out here to the middle of nowhere to confirm something that, if anecdotes were to be believed, you were supposed to just innately  _ know _ ? “How can you not  _ know _ ?” he wanted to ask—but instead, what came out was, “How will you figure it out?”

Rin blinked, eyes gone a bit wide and white, and he looked like he half wanted to burst out laughing again, but the flash of good humor was quickly washed away by a chagrined wince as he wavered uncertainly. “I thought, I dunno, maybe…if I spent time with you, alone, without distractions like the others or a tournament, then maybe I’d be able to pin it down…” He brought a hand up to his neck, rubbing, and clucked his tongue softly at himself. “It’s always been hard to tell with you—cause it feels like so many things, and I tell myself that no, it’s not this, because it’s obviously  _ that _ , when I think the truth is it’s both of those things and half a dozen others…”

Haruka was surprised to find he’d followed the meandering confession—and even more surprised that he sympathized. He’d never felt entirely comfortable defining Rin, either. He’d resisted so long just calling him a  _ friend _ because he’d convinced himself they were supposed to be rivals—and then the opposite, when he’d been so terrified of losing Rin as a friend, he’d refused to swim against him. Now, he worried that clinging too fast to one would mean necessarily giving the other up—like Rin wasn’t allowed to be  _ both _ , or  _ more _ than both, so Haruka avoided either.

“…Why would you think you’re in love with me?”

Rin glanced up, freezing where he’d been drawing circles in the water’s surface sending ripples fanning out. “Huh?”

Haruka shifted forward on the bench, frowning to himself in thought. “It seems like a strange conclusion to jump to—and everyone knows you’re a hopeless romantic.” And when he put it into words, it seemed obvious: this was Rin being Rin, blowing innocent interactions out of proportion and mistaking feelings of excitement and respect and reverence for passion and longing and desire. Sure, he wouldn’t deny things felt…strange. Strained, even, between them—but how did Rin manage to construe that as  _ love _ ?

Rin’s brows cinched, and Haruka was certain he very much wanted to contest the notion that he was a ‘hopeless romantic’, but shockingly, he just huffed a sigh of defeat and let his shoulders slump. “Because I’ve run out of other things it could be…and even though it’d be a pain in the ass to be in love with you, even though I know it wouldn’t be easy—on either of us—I still need to figure it out, or I’m gonna go crazy.”

A flash of irritation heated his cheeks, offense thick in his tone: “Why would it be a pain in the ass?” Somehow the idea that Rin might view  _ any _ sort of relationship between them, romantic or otherwise, as an inconvenience both grated and hurt. He valued his friends, though he had difficulty demonstrating it by and large—and had assumed Rin felt the same, deep down. “You aren’t a peach to get along with yourself, you know.”

Rin laughed, unfazed, and he waved off Haruka’s concern. “Sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not about getting along; it’s about…feelings. My feelings. How it’d complicate things, if it turned out  _ that _ was what they were.” He grimaced, as if picturing that very unhappy possibility. “It doesn’t mean you’d make it a pain in the ass for me—it just means it’d be…difficult.”

Difficult. Complicated. And while he hadn’t said it, Haruka had heard it nonetheless:  _ Annoying _ . It hung there silently between them, draped heavy around Rin’s neck and causing him to slump forward, defeated and lost.

Haruka imagined he’d seen this side of Rin before: he’d come up against a wall he couldn’t see a way around, and try as he might to break through or vault over, he failed. Failed, because he was trying to do it alone. That had always been Rin’s problem: he shrugged off any aid from those who cared about him, convinced that it didn’t matter unless he managed it  _ alone— _ but hadn’t  _ he _ been the one to teach them all that there was value in pulling together as a team?

Rin was treating this…whatever this was, as if it were a one-sided thing, his problem alone—when it clearly involved the both of them now. And if  _ feelings _ were the issue, well he had those in droves, was practically choking on them now that Rin insisted on flushing his own muddled emotions into Haruka. Maybe they were meant to wade into this together; perhaps if Rin was able to figure out where he stood, Haruka could as well. “…So?”

“So? What?”

He bit back a huff of irritation—they were going to get nowhere if Rin insisted on feigning ignorance. “So figure it out.” They had, if he’d heard correctly, until 11 the next morning—surely plenty of time for Rin to put a name to whatever he felt so that they might move on, clearer headed. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“Oh.” Rin glanced around, as if fearful they were being watched and he was about to embarrass himself publicly, before mumbling almost too low to be heard, “…Mind if I sit by you?”

The tub wasn’t terribly big, and already their toes were brushing when they shifted—but he didn’t suppose that’s really what Rin was asking, so he offered a disinterested, “Whatever.”

The water sloshed violently as Rin scrambled from his seat opposite Haruka to press not quite flush against him, but close enough to brush knees and hips and looking entirely too pleased with himself for such a simple gesture. He got excited over the strangest things; if he thought he liked Haruka, wouldn’t he derive more pleasure sitting across from him, where he could gawk and stare to his heart’s content?

But beneath the water, Rin’s fingers found Haruka’s, twining their pinkies together and chuckling softly to himself in accomplishment. Something so simple, but it brought him such giddy joy. Had he completely lost all self-respect? It was a bit disconcerting—but then, Rin had always been tactile, expressing emotion through touch.

His mind wandered back to that hug, that last moment of contact before they parted ways and began to walk their respective paths toward dreams that, while not the same, would lead them to the same destination. He recalled how tightly Rin had held him, and how reluctant he’d been to let go, as if committing Haruka’s shape to memory. Maybe he  _ had _ been doing that.

Was this part of it too, whatever Rin felt? Touching? Maybe that was what helped to ground him, just like Haruka was able to calm his thoughts with a long soak. No matter what problems reared their ugly heads or how tough a situation seemed, being able to mingle with the water, enjoy the calm quiet for a while, helped immeasurably. If touch worked in much the same manner for Rin—touching  _ Haruka _ —then how difficult had it been for him, training in Australia thousands of kilometers away, with only the cold comfort of an occasional video chat to buoy him? Maybe that explained why he’d been so handsy today; maybe he’d even been  _ holding back _ , a rare display of consideration.

Haruka supposed this was where he was meant to take a step forward to help Rin in his quest for understanding, so he inhaled deeply, steeled himself, then pulled away from the bench to twist around and straddle Rin to settle atop his thighs.

“Whoa— _ whoa _ , that the  _ hell _ are you—oh  _ shit _ .” Rin’s protests were a jumble of curses and stuttered flailing, but he took great pains not to lay hands on Haruka, instead struggling to push himself backwards, into the curving edge of the tub. Haruka slowly settled down across his lap, chest to chest and nose to nose, before leaning forward to gently loop his arms around Rin’s neck and  _ hugged _ . He didn’t hug often, but he’d been on the receiving end of enough of them to think he did a passing job of it as he flexed his arms and tightened the embrace.

It was all bony elbows and squirming protests and splashing squawking for a few more moments—until Rin shuddered, groaning in defeat, and hesitantly slid his hands under Haruka’s arms, palms splayed flat over his back as they’d done earlier in the shower when he’d scrubbed Haruka down, and sliding up to squeeze his shoulders. He grimaced, disappointment warring with reluctant relief on his features, and buried his face in Haruka’s shoulder as he grumbled in a voice thick with some indefinable emotion, “Now why the hell would you go and do  _ that _ , you jerk…?”

He didn’t entirely understand the question—or why Rin hadn’t seemed  _ nearly _ as happy to receive a hug as he’d been to give them. “…I thought you might need it.” He pulled back, leaving just enough space between them to duck his head and stare curiously, searching for a reaction he could place. “Does this calm you down?”

Rin’s lips twisted into a wry, chagrined smile, and he coughed. “I…no, it…actually kind of the opposite.”

And then he  _ felt _ it, a springy, firm  _ something  _ nudging him—exactly what one might expect to happen to a man who’d just had the object of his affections crawl into his lap, nude. He glanced down between them, but nothing could be spotted beneath the murky bathwater, and swallowed. “This…is what you meant when you said…?”

Rin nodded, lips pursed in shame, and kept his eyes turned downward—but really, what did  _ he _ have to be ashamed of? Haruka was the one who ought to be feeling embarrassed, as he’d stupidly assumed this was all Rin being a silly romantic again, having big dreams and overthinking things, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and mistaking mundane feelings of friendship and affection for something darker, more serious, more  _ adult _ .

But they  _ were _ adults now—and Rin was sitting here beneath him, aroused and ashamed, and suddenly this whole situation had become very real very fast.

_ “To figure out whether or not I’m in love with you,” _ Rin had said, and clearly that didn’t just mean whether or not he had rosy, romantic feelings—but whether or not there was a physical spark there too. Haruka had committed, albeit silently, to helping Rin organize his thoughts, though, and if this was part of that ‘love’, then…

He swallowed thickly, cleared his mind, then flexed his thighs, lifting up just a hair only to settle back again and draw forward with a slow, gentle roll of his hips that sent Rin into fits, shoving and squirming and nearly unseating Haruka as he crossed his legs, bending at an awkward angle to shield his groin. “What the  _ fuck _ , Haru?!” He was breathing hard, eyes wide and terrified and cheeks flushed.

“I—” Haruka frowned, feeling his own cheeks pink with irritation. Why was Rin being so damn  _ difficult _ ? This was awkward enough; they didn’t need to draw it out. “Don’t you…need to find out though?”

Rin laughed a bit maniacally and shook his head, “Nooo no no, I uh—I already know I like  _ that _ . We are…clear on that point, if nothing else. Very clear.” He swallowed, throat bobbing, and glanced everywhere but at Haruka. “There is absolutely definitely for  _ sure _ no reason for you to uh, to—test that. I’m pretty confident where I stand on dick-related matters. So.” He nodded to himself, breathing fast.

Haruka eyed him warily, concerned this might be another diversion tactic—but touching Rin again like that  _ now _ would brush up against a number of statutes that were best left unbroken, so he decided to take Rin’s word for it. “…Whatever, if you say so.”

Rin chanced a quick flash of eye contact, frowning in confusion but holding himself stiffly, arms crossed over his chest as if frightened Haruka might otherwise take liberties with his person. “…This doesn’t weird you out?”

Of course it did—but only in the sense that  _ everything _ people did that changed dynamics ‘weirded him out’. Discomfort didn’t work on the same scale for Haruka as with others, and he thought that, even now, he might be more put out if he’d been ordered off mackerel for a week versus finding out one of his closest friends might have feelings for him beyond mere platonic affection. But it was discomfort all the same, and so he truthfully responded, “…Yeah.” Before Rin could wilt, though, he followed his confession with, “…But so did wearing a cap and goggles at first.”

“Huh?” Rin lifted a brow and frowned in a manner that told Haruka he’d gone a bit far with his comparison. Now he’d have to  _ explain _ it. Annoying.

“It was a little uncomfortable at first, but then I got used to it. I don’t even mind it now—and I kind of like it, since when I put them on, I know I’m about to swim. And I can’t find that strange or irritating, because…it’s something I enjoy.” He huffed softly, a little fatigued from what, for him, was a relative mouthful.

Rin’s lips twitched, a relieved little smile tugging at the corners—and when he glanced away again, this time it was to hide the way the smile went a bit goofy at the edges.

He wondered if he shouldn’t be asking Rin something along the same lines: didn’t the idea of being in love with Haruka, with a dear friend, with another boy remotely faze him? Then again, Rin  _ had  _ just reassured him in panicked tones that he’d apparently more than accepted the physical aspect of being attracted to Haruka—so that settled the ‘another boy’ part.

How did you know, though, if what you felt was more than mere friendship? Surely romantic feelings, the notion of  _ being in love _ , was more than simple affection coupled with attraction. If not for anyone else, then  _ definitely _ for Rin at least. He’d always dreamed on a scale far larger than anyone else, larger than was rightly appropriate. Maybe he’d finally grown into those dreams and fantasies.

“…Do you want to kiss me?”

Rin blanched, looking slightly queasy. “Do I…what?” Haruka just stared at him pointedly, not about to repeat himself when he knew Rin had heard him perfectly well. Rin’s eyes flicked quickly down to the offered lips, then back up again, and he swallowed. “…I…” A nod, a bit guilty. “…Yeah, kinda…”

Perhaps Haruka was the one playing stupid now, since he really hadn’t had any cause to ask such an obvious question, especially when he was willing to follow it up with: “Go ahead.”

And now Rin  _ definitely _ looked queasy, his pallor off and brows furrowed in wary confusion. “…Wait, you—you’re not shitting with me, right…? Cause I don’t need your fucking pity or cruelty right n—”

“When have I ever done anything just to be cruel?”

Rin pursed his lips, thoughtful. “…Well, you  _ can _ be an asshole, but I guess it isn’t usually on purpose…” Haruka wanted receipts on that suggestion, certainly he’d never treated Rin any worse than Rin well deserved. Why would he ask a question like that out of pure curiosity? Rin was walking on eggshells right now, a far cry from his usual cocky bravado, and Haruka was willing to resort to most anything to bring him back around to his normal self, help him—help  _ them _ —resolve this issue and move on.

Slowly, Rin unclenched, arms falling away to brush fingers hesitantly up Haruka’s forearms to rest at his shoulders, unsure and wavering and clearly terrified—expressions which didn’t suit Rin at all. This was ridiculous, and with an exasperated huff, Haruka snapped his hands up to brace against Rin’s jaw, holding him in place, and pressed their lips together.

Rin inhaled sharply, drawing Haruka closer as he spasmed reflexively, and was suddenly returning the rather sloppily executed kiss with instinctual fervor that said he hadn’t quite processed what had happened and might have responded similarly had Haruka simply tripped and fallen onto his lips. No matter—the connection had been initiated, and they were at least getting somewhere.

He tried to settle his breathing—at least one of them needed to keep his head throughout this ordeal—but his inhalations seemed to come stuttered and his exhalations were coupled with embarrassingly loud panting and the occasional barely stifled moan. Rin, for his part, was unabashed in displaying his enjoyment of the gesture, and he finally looped his arms around Haruka’s neck as he’d clearly been itching to do for the past ten minutes now, jaw dropping open a hair and tongue teasing at the seam of Haruka’s lips. Rin seemed to know what he was doing, so Haruka let him lead and didn’t wonder at all where Rin might have learned such techniques.

It wasn’t, admittedly, nearly as pleasurable as he’d expected from saccharine movies and manga, but Rin didn’t seem to mind, fingers sliding and brushing and touching whatever bits of skin he could lay his palms over, hips trembling as he barely kept himself from bucking up against Haruka to satisfy what must have been a mounting itch. Haruka opened his mouth just wide enough to nip at Rin’s lower lip in silent warning not to shove his tongue into his mouth like he owned it—and Rin released a keening whine of pain.

Haruka pulled back, flushed and frowning—he didn’t like the sound of that noise; had he been too rough?

Rin tried to follow him, grunting in disappointment when he was stalled by a palm across his chest. “Why did you do that…?”

All concern melted away, replaced by a flash of irritation, and being able to relax into the familiarity of such an emotion when coupled with Rin settled his nerves a hair. He was still breathing hard, like he’d just swum a 50-meter race—hell, the slide of water across his skin and the clench of muscles had him half-convinced he’d  _ dreamed _ the whole hot springs trip and was still doing laps at practice. But then Rin’s face wavered into view, too close by half and skin splotched with patches of red, lips plump and swollen with blood. “Well, you were taking too long; so I just—”

“No no no,” Rin muttered, shaking his head and goofy grin back on his lips as he brought his hands up to give Haruka a shake of the shoulders. “I mean why’d you stop?” He then surged forward, hands sliding up to brace on either side of Haruka’s face, and slotted their lips together with a fair bit more finesse and technique than Haruka had demonstrated; maybe he should have just waited for Rin to start this business in the first place.

The pace then slowed considerably as Rin gentled his attentions—perhaps panic, or sheer shocked terror, had forced him to take what he could  _ while _ he could moments ago. Now, though, confident that Haruka wouldn’t be running away or shoving him aside in disgust, he risked  _ enjoying _ , wholly, the experience. And Haruka let him—for this was part and parcel of Rin figuring things out.

Kissing was, for many, an act more intimate than sex itself: gentle or rough, innocent or lustful or anything in-between. Maybe Rin knew what his dick liked, as he’d protested earlier, but this wasn’t about arousal—or not  _ just _ about it. This was about what he felt, what sharing this experience, this moment, with Haruka left him with. Haruka couldn’t begin to explain what those feelings might  _ mean _ , could only hope  _ Rin _ understood—but at least they’d have a starting block they might finally mount, even if the race was far from finished.

“Have you figured it out yet…?” he dared when Rin began to lay a line of kisses down his neck—if he left marks, they would have  _ words _ .

“Hm?” Rin mumbled absently against his skin. “Figured out what…?”

“What you  _ feel _ —are you in love with me?”

Rin snorted derisively, then chuckled with reluctant pain in his tone. “Fuck, Haru—you can’t ask me that  _ right now _ …”

And why not? “Shouldn’t you know best right now…?” Nudity, arousal, kissing, touching—shouldn’t this at least make things  _ slightly _ clearer…?

“I don’t think I even know my own name right now,” Rin confessed throatily, suckling at a point just under Haruka’s neck that sent a spasming chill through his body, and he jerked involuntarily in Rin’s arms. “See? Hard to concentrate…”

“Then maybe we should stop.”

Rin sighed, biting back what sounded like a grunt of frustration, and let his forehead drop forward to settle on Haruka’s shoulder. After he’d settled his breathing, he swallowed, and his voice came out only slightly steadier than before. “…It’s not that simple. Whenever I think about you, like  _ really _ think about you—not your times, not your swimming, but  _ you _ , Nanase Haruka—I get…this  _ knot _ in my stomach, like right before a race I’m not sure I’m gonna win or come in last with.” His arms came up around Haruka’s back, hands hooking at his shoulders to draw them flush as he tucked his face into the crook of Haruka’s neck. “I feel like I don’t know myself when I think about you like that, or like I just don’t recognize who I am…”

“…That’s ridiculous, you’re the same as you’ve always been.”

“Then maybe it’s  _ you _ I don’t recognize—the you I conjure up in my mind, at least.” Haruka could feel him smiling against his skin. “At first it scared me—I swam like shit for three days straight after that first skype conversation we had. I never told you; I’m sorry.” Before Haruka could reprimand him, he continued, “But then I just—it became…more a curiosity. I wanted to figure it out—to find out who that person was, if it’s really someone else entirely, or just…a new version of me. Someone I’m meant to be, someone I can’t help but be.” He pulled back, brows lifted, and shrugged. “I can’t run away from this—because it might be part of who I am. It’s just…proving easier said than done.”

Haruka processed his words, realizing that they relieved him—this was more the Rin he recognized, even if Rin didn’t seem to recognize himself.  _ This _ was a Rin who saw a problem and approached it head-on, and even if he stumbled at first in his efforts, eventually he’d be navigating this issue as smoothly as any stroke. Still, the process—the struggle—was a tall hurdle indeed. “…It sounds annoying.”

Rin pulled back, laughing and flashing a toothy grin. “New things  _ are _ . Doesn’t mean it’s not worth pursuing; I’d hate to miss out on something grand just because I was too chickenshit to at least  _ try _ for it.”

And even if Rin hadn’t meant it as an invitation, Haruka heard it as such all the same: a challenge to follow, to join Rin in this pursuit of something grand, to find answers to those questions stewing in his mind. If he balked here, if Rin reached that place and traveled too far ahead without him, Haruka might never catch up again—and with a shudder, he realized that the last thing he wanted was to find himself once more in a place where Rin had experienced something he hadn’t.

“You cold?” Rin asked, misinterpreting the shiver. “I can turn the pumps back on and circulate some warmer water in if you—”

“Shut up,” he muttered, patience thinning, and he raced to catch back up to Rin by drawing close again, noses brushing and breath mingling in an effort to physically bridge any lingering distance between them. He splayed his palms flat over Rin’s pectorals, concentrating on the rhythmic thudding thump just beneath his fingers—and it quickened at his touch. “…I want to help. I want to help you figure it out.”

Rin was blinking rapidly, lashes fluttering and brushing against Haruka’s cheek. He licked his lips. “You’re uh—already going above and beyond…”

“Maybe…” he conceded with a trace of reluctance, but something told him he could still do  _ more _ —could show Rin the hand- and footholds he needed to breach the walls he ran up against. He  _ needed _ to do more, if this was going to work. He couldn’t let Rin be the only one between them making sacrifices and taking risks. Getting all the glory. “Rin,” he called softly, and that spoken name brushed Haruka’s lips against Rin’s.

“H—aru,” Rin gulped, flinching and eyes clenched shut. “You gotta stop that…”

“Stop…?” That seemed entirely counterproductive—and he wondered if Rin truly meant it, or if this was just another instance of him being contrary. One hand dipped below the surface of the water, tracing the dips and ridges of Rin’s abdominal muscles, which jerked and juddered at his touch and set Rin to gasping hissed curses. “Is that really what you want me to do…?”

“I—shit, Haru, I want…” His breathing grew labored, words interrupted with little gasps and grunts as he squirmed in response to Haruka’s touch. He realized it might not seem fair, might look like teasing to any onlooker, but he needed it spelled out for him what  _ exactly _ Rin wanted from him, or if he was truly intent on settling this matter all by himself. It sounded stupid to Haruka to refuse freely offered aid, and while the closeness and tepidity of the water were starting to go to his head, accelerating his own heartrate and sending a heated flush racing over his skin, he wasn’t yet ready to count this a lost cause.

Rin lazily lifted one leg, the meat of his thigh brushing softly over Haruka’s sac and drawing a strangled gasp—another reminder that this had ceased being good-natured naked fellowship characteristic of an  _ onsen _ quite some time earlier. He fought the instinct to bear down and rut against Rin’s thigh, certain that would be a step too far for someone who’d spurned such attentions only moments ago with reassurances that he’d already come to terms with any physical attraction, concerned now more with the emotional side of—

Rin’s mouth was hanging open, exhalations coming in frantic huffs as he squirmed in place. “I want to— _ ngh _ , s-suck you off…”

Haruka froze, still and silent but for a shocked flare of nostril and widened eyes. “You…what?”

Rin clenched his eyes shut tighter, grimacing and shaking his head. “Fuck—no, just, ignore that—I’m just really horny right now, I didn’t…” He rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, then huffed and braced one hand against Haruka’s chest to move him off. “Sorry, I’m not making sense—I’m gonna go and…” He made to stand, nearly slipping on the bench, and when Haruka surged forward to help steady him, he bumped up against Rin’s rather handsome erection standing at pert attention. Rin doubled over, crossing his legs to try and shield himself and flushed crimson with shame. “Dammit—dammit, sorry,  _ fuck _ this is mortifying.” He laughed bitterly at himself and ran fingers through his hair to brush it back from his face as he plopped back down onto the bench in defeat. “…Maybe you should get out first.”

The suggestion was like a bolt of lightning, jolting Haruka’s system back into function, and he blinked rapidly to restore his senses. “I—get out?” Things were happening quickly, and he struggled to keep up.

Rin ducked a nod, clearly loath to meet Haruka’s eyeline just now. “I’m just…gonna wait for the swelling to go down. Maybe when the water cools some more. You can take the bed—I’ll set something up on one of the chairs over in the foyer.” He then slumped lower in the water, until his nostrils were nearly submerged; perhaps he hoped drowning himself might restore some measure of dignity.

But what dignity had he really lost? Haruka had asked a question—and Rin had answered it so honestly even a measure of wine couldn’t have pulled truth from his tongue more cleanly. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to  _ admit _ it, but it still rang of truth. And yet—it was not the  _ whole _ truth.

Haruka regarded Rin, practically trembling with shame and frustration before him, and frowned. Even now, as raw as Haruka had ever seen him and given ample leave to explore Haruka as he might want, he still held back. He still struggled with a self-imposed tether, convincing himself to be content with a morsel when he clearly craved something  _ greater _ . Something grand.

His heartbeat picked up, gaining another half-beat in anticipation, and he wondered if between the two of them they might flush so deeply they would reheat the tub water. “…That’s not what you really want.”

“Yeah, I know, I told you—I’m just…just, horny or whatever. I haven’t jerked off in weeks ‘cause Coach has us all on some ridiculous—”

“ _ No _ ,” Haruka pressed, irritation flaring again, and he settled his palm gently over the tip of Rin’s dick, letting his fingers fall to cup the lip of the exposed head. “I mean  _ that’s not what you really want _ .”

Rin jolted in place, cursing colorfully in what Haruka had to assume was English but couldn’t attest to, and his fingers snapped out to grip Haruka’s wrist, squeezing just tight enough to hold him in place without removing him entirely or encouraging further exploration. “…That’s—I never…” He shook his head. “…It  _ is _ . If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have asked for it. I’d have grown a pair and asked for…for  _ that _ , in that case.”

“ _ Would _ you have?”

“Yes,” Rin snapped, eyes flashing as he finally met Haruka’s gaze. “I might not be on top of my game right now, but I’ve come too far to lose my nerve  _ here _ .”

“…You just tried to kick me out of the tub.”

Rin winced, looking a bit disgusted with himself. “…Okay, fine—but I’m serious. If I’d  _ wanted _ that, I would’ve asked for it—not some consolation blowjob.”

Haruka studied him, confused—he’d assumed most men would leap at an offer of sex over fellatio, especially when simply  _ giving _ it, not receiving. “…Why not, then?” Rin continued to baffle him at every turn.

“Because,” Rin protested, “It’s—well, that’s…something you’re supposed to do with the person you love.”

And kissing wasn’t? All these other things Rin wanted to do  _ weren’t _ ? “I thought you were trying to figure that out,” he countered a bit wearily, exhausted by the whiplash sustained trying to follow Rin’s logic.

“I am! But—they’ve gotta love you back, for that.”

“And that’s a rule?”

“It’s  _ my _ rule. Kissing is…well, people kiss, it doesn’t have to  _ mean _ anything.”

“But sucking my—”

“ _ That _ —” Rin shook a warning finger in his face, “I told you, I’m just—turned on, that’s all. I’m not making smart decisions right now; I’ll take care of it with some cold water later.” He shifted again and re-crossed his legs, obviously uncomfortable but trying not to broadcast it. “You can get out and dressed first; I’m gonna wait for a few.”

Haruka could feel the distance opening between them again, the same nauseating echo of separation that had plagued him those first few days after Rin had left. He hadn’t been quite himself again until he’d received a simple text,  _ /Made it to Sydney! Settled in, room is small and smells like fish. Thought of you./ _ and he’d fashioned the warmth that had pooled in his stomach in response to the gesture into a roaring fire under himself, challenging and encouraging him every step of the way. “Maybe you didn’t ask for that, but you did ask for  _ something _ .”

Rin stared down at the surface of the water, their reflections rippling with each shifting movement. “…I asked for something I shouldn’t have. I asked for something you shouldn’t  _ give me _ . So stop—stop  _ trying _ .” He slapped a hand across the surface, breaking up Haruka’s baleful expression reflected in the water. “I’m the one trying to figure something out here—not you. If you keep trying to help like this, you’re gonna wind up doing something you regret, so just…” He sighed loudly, then forced a cocky leer, one brow raised, “Let me win this one?”

“…You got really angry the last time I let you win something.”

Rin rolled his eyes, “Stop playing stupid and—”

“And you more than anyone should know I won’t offer to do something I don’t want to do.” He drew himself up, stiff and sober. “If you think it’s worth doing…I want to try, too.” He would never admit it, even under pain of death, but Rin was usually right about these things: even if they seemed annoying at first, taking risks and making an effort usually wound up paying off in the end a dozen-fold. He’d been right about the relay, he’d been right about Haruka’s dream, so maybe…he was right about this too. That there was  _ something _ to explore, something beyond what they had now. And if this was part of Rin figuring that out…he wanted, more than anything, to be there alongside him in the endeavor.

Rin was silent for a long while, eyes closed in apparent meditation, and when he opened them again, there was a defeated slump to his shoulders. Haruka wondered if he regretted dragging them out here, if he wished he’d never said anything, just bought the plane tickets like they’d originally planned. They might have avoided this fiasco, certainly; but then again, they’d still be stuck in this limbo, neither quite knowing where he stood with the other.

Shame would fade with time, would be forgotten eventually. But never having closure? Never really  _ knowing _ and being saddled with this nauseating indecision and confusion Haruka was only just starting to recognize? No. Even if Rin regretted it…Haruka didn’t. Best to just grit his teeth and bear down.

“…I’m selfish, you know.”

“I know.”

Rin frowned at him, looking very much like he wanted to take issue with the comment—and Haruka realized he’d probably been speaking rhetorically. “I  _ mean _ that I’m selfish—because I want things that I haven’t really earned. I want you to swim—not always because  _ you _ want to, but because  _ I _ want you to. I want to be the first thing you think about when you hit the water, and the last thing you think about when you climb up onto the poolside. And sometimes I want you thinking about me beyond that too.” He hunched down, voice going softer. “I want to know a side of you that no one else knows. A side that’s just for me. I want…something beyond just swimming with you. I want more than just rivalry, more than friendship. I want something strong and special that  _ no one else _ gets to share.” He shook his head, lips pursed thin. “I know it’s selfish and annoying and demanding, but it’s  _ me _ —and you asked what I wanted, so…so I just  _ told you _ . I told you the most selfish, annoying, demanding thing I could ask for right now.”

He’d told Haruka that—perhaps unconsciously hoping to scare him away. Yes, he’d been turned on; yes, he probably hadn’t been thinking entirely clearly. But Haruka didn’t doubt that somewhere, deep down, Rin had probably been trying to sabotage himself. Because as much as he claimed to  _ need _ to know what he was feeling…the reality of finally knowing, clear and true, probably terrified him. Haruka could sympathize.

Rin tilted his head back, staring up at the low beams of the ceiling. “Being around you—it always made me feel like I was meant for greater things, that maybe if I was with you, we could reach those greater things together. So I guess I got it into my head that maybe being in love with you  _ was _ that greater thing. There’ll always be someone better than me, faster than me—and I’m fine with that.” He shrugged, a bit self-deprecating. “It’s part of the allure, I guess. Grabbing gold and holding on to it for as long as possible, because I know some day someone else will take it from me. But, I think…” He nodded to himself. “I think maybe I could be the best at loving you. Or maybe loving you would make me be the best I can be. Or maybe both.” He cleared his throat when his voice grew thick. “Anyway, it’s something I’ve gotta figure out—because not knowing is killing me. I’ve never been able to give up on something I really want, for better or worse, but…” He locked eyes with Haruka, sober and serious and intense. “That doesn’t mean you’ve gotta feel obligated to figure it out  _ with _ me.”

And how many times did he have to say it? How many ways did he have to phrase it before Rin finally _ understood _ ? This was getting ridiculous. “You  _ really _ think I’m doing this out of obligation? When you know maybe better than  _ anyone _ that I never do anything just because I want to make someone else happy?” Hell, more often than not, he did the  _ opposite _ , just to be a contrary shit, because he hated others making decisions for him. “That’s not why I swim; it’s not why I do  _ anything _ . I do it because…” He frowned to himself, uncomfortable with how raw his feelings were sounding. “Because I’ve learned how it feels to share things others love  _ with _ them. How infectious their enjoyment can be.”

Rin had this curious—and  _ irritating _ —ability to make Haruka like what Rin liked, be it the relay or competitive swimming, or even lukewarm onsen tubs. Or maybe it was just that Rin woke him to feelings that had been there all along, lying dormant and waiting to be roused by someone worthy. Rin would  _ love _ the romantic idea of  _ that _ . “So stop telling me what I do or don’t want, and let me figure it out for myself. If I hate it, I only have myself to blame.” He rested a hand at Rin’s hip, stroking a thumb over the knobby bone. “You’re always rushing ahead of me… Let me walk with you this time.”

Rin’s breath hitched audibly, and he licked his lips, swallowing. After allowing a moment’s silent consideration, Rin finally muttered with blatantly forced indifference, “…I guess…if you can keep up.”

Haruka felt his lips twitching at the corners, threatening to betray his amusement with the familiar turn of phrase, so he disguised the reaction with a kiss, met initially with a sharp gasp but which quickly was returned with earnest vigor as Rin allowed himself to accept that this was  _ happening _ , that whatever the outcome, Haruka wasn’t going to shove him away in disgust or flee screaming from the room. Not that he would’ve done that to begin with; he likely would have just clocked him across the jaw and marched back for the bus stop, hoping to catch the last shuttle back to the station.

Rin’s fingers fumbled between their bellies, making tentative passes over Haruka’s cock before jerking back as if shocked—still evidently shy about touching despite his earlier request. “Sorry,” he apologized breathily. “Just—got a little…”

“Shut up,” Haruka muttered, wishing Rin might leave off with the faint apologies; this would be a full magnitude less awkward if Rin would just treat this like any other interaction, snarky commentary and sly quips lubricating better than any amount of saliva or oil might. He reached between them and grabbed both their shafts in one hand, squeezing them together and giving a sharp pump of his hips for tight movement. “Stop messing around and get on with it, if you’re going to do it. Or I’ll pass you up.”

He didn’t know what he meant by that, truthfully, and he doubted Rin did either, but the threat did not go unheeded, and Rin nodded, nose bumping Haruka’s and teeth clacking together. “Umm—just, it might be…easier if you’re out of the tub. On the side. Sitting, I mean.”

Wordlessly, Haruka moved to comply, releasing Rin’s cock with a gentle pinch at the tip that wrang a strangled gasp from Rin’s throat and a hissed  _ Cut that out! I’m gonna fucking pop _ . That was more like it—rasping curses and toothless threats. He’d missed that, and as he stepped up onto the bench and turned around to settle on the tub’s edge, he teased idly, “Do you even know how to do this?”

“Better than  _ you _ ,” Rin sniffed, bracing his hands on Haruka’s knees and shoving them apart with a bit more force than was likely strictly necessary—and Haruka did  _ not _ like that tone, or the implication, he quickly realized. That wasn’t the cocky confidence he’d wanted to hear: confidence bred from  _ experience _ .

For the first time, he considered the fact that Rin had only asked if  _ he _ felt weirded out by the idea of Rin having feelings for him: he’d never said anything like  _ It’s weird, right? _ Or  _ I know I shouldn’t, but _ —He’d just  _ accepted it _ , only troubled by the lack of conviction in his feelings, not by the nature of the object those feelings were directed towards. And maybe that was because…he’d already experienced feelings like that before. For someone else.  _ With _ someone else.

Where had Rin learned to kiss like that? Where had he learned that sitting right here, between another man’s knees, was a place he  _ wanted _ to be? This didn’t strike Haruka as the sort of thing you did on a whim, and Rin never went into a situation unprepared…

Rin sighed, brows cinching, and slumped against the inside of Haruka’s thigh as he settled into a comfortable position on the bench. “…Don’t look at me like that. I’m not…I…” He ducked his head guiltily, then mumbled something unintelligible.

“You what?”

Rin glanced up, cheeks and ears pink and tone venomous, “I looked it up, okay? I  _ studied _ . Because I’m a theory freak, which you damn well know, so you don’t have to rub it in or—or look like  _ that _ .” He waved a hand in Haruka’s face, lips turned into a troubled frown but gaze steady and imploring.

He’d studied. He’d  _ read up _ on how to…do this. To what end, Haruka couldn’t imagine—had he planned on doing this the whole time? Or had it purely been for his own edification? He tried to imagine Rin’s bookshelf:  _ Ten Steps to a Better Butterfly, A Modern History of the Olympics, Willard’s English Grammar, Fellate Your Way to Success _ .

“…I wasn’t ‘looking like’ anything; I was just…surprised.”

Rin raised a dubious brow. “Surprised I wanted to suck you off—or surprised I knew how?” Maybe both—but he didn’t clarify, and Rin took his silence in stride, looping his arms under Haruka’s thighs to hold him in place. “…You still aren’t sure about this.”

Rin didn’t sound surprised—more resigned, but at least he wasn’t trying to give Haruka any more outs; he’d quite exhausted himself trying to convince Rin that he was fine with whatever Rin needed to get out of himself—or into himself—in order to draw the conclusions he needed to. No more struggling on alone—they’d vowed that months ago. This was just part of that long pathway to their futures; a pleasant little detour, if he wanted to think of it in those terms. “…Just don’t bite it off.”

“Even if it might make you more streamlined?” Rin quirked his brows with a flash of a grin that seemed more genuine, “Only offering.” Haruka frowned, about to shoot back a warning—he didn’t quite trust Rin with those teeth—but Rin just took a measured inhalation, releasing his breath slowly, and focused his attention on the task before him.

Haruka hunched forward, trying not to stare but curious all the same, as Rin gingerly took his shaft in one hand and gave it a gentle squeeze while he traced the outline of each ball with his fingertips, following the curve and dips, forward to the root and behind to what turned out to be a rather sensitive little patch of skin, as Haruka gave an involuntary jerk. Rin glanced up, a knowing, open-mouthed grin on his lips, and tried it again—receiving the same response, a sharp little shallow snap forward. “Someone’s sensitive,” he crooned with a leer.

“Learn that…in your book…?” he grunted, irritated he couldn’t keep control of his reactions; he clenched his muscles tight enough to cramp, loath to give Rin the satisfaction of another response like that.

“Nope…but I knew it felt good on me, so I guessed.” And  _ now _ Haruka’s mind was flooded with images of Rin, lying nude and spread-eagle on the same bed they shared their video chats upon, trying to pleasure himself and finding that little secret spot behind his balls for the first time. His cock didn’t mind the line of thought at all, it seemed, and it plumped in Rin’s hand, the head peeking out from beneath its hood to advertise his mounting arousal. Rin snickered at the sight, massaging the shaft. “Did you just get hard thinking about me? Perv.” Haruka liked that he seemed to be getting his confidence back, but he could do without the snarky commentary.

“You’re…one to talk.”

“Yeah, I guess so… Maybe I should stop talking?” Haruka was about to agree wholeheartedly—when Rin let his jaw fall open, formed a pert  _ o _ with his lips, and slid them over the tip and down the shaft, not stopping until his nose nearly brushed the fine hairs at the root. Haruka inhaled sharply, his body seizing, and his hands snapped out to grip Rin’s head, holding him in place with such force he genuinely worried he might crush his skull. His thighs tensed, locking around Rin, and his senses spiraled down into a long, hot rod of focus between his hips.

He’d touched himself before—never really with  _ intent _ , just to seek relief. It had just never been something really on his mind all that often, and so he took care of himself when the situation called for it, much the same as he might duck into a bathroom to relieve himself when the urge arose.

_ This _ , though. This was…different.

The loss of control, having no say in the pressure or heat or slide of lips and tongue over feverish flesh—it introduced an element of surprise, anticipation, that was brand new to Haruka. Something he’d never felt before. How appropriate, then, that it was Rin leading the way.

He forced his breathing to even, though it still came out labored and rough as he openly gawked at Rin between his legs and focused all his energies on not rising to his feet and using Rin’s mouth as he liked. Rin had only cinched his brows in confusion when Haruka grabbed him, but nothing else, and he now had one arm looped under Haruka’s thigh, gripping for balance, while the other kept the shaft guided straight between his lips as he drew back, long and slow, to suckle needily at the tip before working up a layer of saliva and sliding back down again.

He repeated this for several passes in a lazy rhythm—then without warning, pulled off entirely to lay a line of sucking kisses down the underside, bracing his teeth threateningly against the sensitive, puckered skin and drawing goosebumps in his wake. Haruka held still as death and relinquished his grip on Rin’s head, settling backward and closing his eyes, letting his other senses heighten the experience.

This was what Rin had asked for from him—what he wanted. To draw Haruka’s pleasure from him, with his own hand—his own mouth—and control. He wanted to see a sight not only  _ he _ had never seen before, but that  _ no one _ had ever seen before—and Haruka had been unexpectedly eager to allow him his request. It sent a shiver of  _ something _ through him: possessiveness, maybe. The realization that Rin was just as desperate to have something to hold on to, something that was just for  _ them _ , as Haruka was. The crude nature of the activity demeaned the gesture not a bit; in fact, the intimacy, the inherent secrecy and shame and arousal involved, only served to make it that much more a titillating experience. Rin  _ wanted _ this—wanted to be here, guiding Haruka’s pleasure and in doing so start marking the boundaries of their relationship. This, evidently, was not one of those boundaries, because he was getting  _ quite close _ to passing over it.

Rin shifted in place, and Haruka wondered if his knees were bothering him, cradling his weight as he balanced on the tub’s bench, until he realized that Rin’s free hand had slipped from around his thigh and was making jerky movements just below the water’s surface. Rin’s back was arched in a gentle curve, and as he worked Haruka’s cock with his lips and tongue and the firm, sure grip of one hand, he’d wrapped the other around himself, frothing the water with rapid, insistent tugging. Haruka craned his neck forward, eyes hooded and dark, he knew, with desire, and he licked his lips as he tried to get a better look—but the water was too murky to see anything. Rin would meet his peak and spurt his release into the tepid bathwater—what a waste. He would have liked to have seen it; that way they could have shared finally knowing a side to each other that no one else was privy to.

“Rin—Rin—I want to see…”

“Hunh?” Rin cried out feebly as Haruka eased him off, frowning in confusion when Haruka proceeded to scoot backward until only his knees hung over the tub’s edge, toes dangling in the water. The angle forced Rin to lift up and out, crawling over Haruka to reach his cock again. “The hell are you…”

“I want to see,” he repeated, drawing a knee up against Rin’s side as he settled down onto his elbows—from this angle, he could see Rin’s shaft hugging tight against his belly with his balls swinging pendulously behind it. He balanced on one elbow to place a hand on Rin’s shoulder, guiding him back to his work. “Plus you shouldn’t dirty the water…”

“…You  _ have _ to be fucking kidding—no, no of course you aren’t…” He shook his head. “You’re supposed to just sit there and enjoy this.”

“I am,” he reassured, arching his back in case Rin had missed how hard he was. “I just wanted to see you, too.”

Rin swallowed thickly, the confident set of his features loosened by warm, awkward pride. “Perv,” he accused again, without any bite whatsoever, and he looked rather strange settling down to take Haruka’s cock in his mouth with a goofy grin on his lips.

For his part, Haruka didn’t really care what Rin called him—what could he say or do  _ now _ that would be any more embarrassing or shameful than anything they’d discussed this far? Still balancing on one elbow, he placed one hand over the back of Rin’s head, tilting his head back again and letting his eyes slide shut as he lost himself in the tight, wet warmth of Rin’s mouth, throat relaxing to take Haruka as deep as he could before slowly drawing back out and applying a suckling kiss at the tip. Was this what sex would feel like? What sex with  _ Rin _ might feel like? Warmth and sweat and slick and tightness, Rin under him—or over him, or cursing in his ear or teasing that  _ coming first isn’t the goal right now you know _ ? Would he finally lose that frightened animal look to him and go back to just being  _ Rin _ ? Would he figure this out, would  _ Haruka _ figure it out?

Or would they have to keep trying until it finally became clear? Maybe that wouldn’t be such a tragedy.

Rin’s grip was tight on his own shaft, wrist snapping sharply to wring cries from his lips that were lost as nothing more than keening moans as he continued to suckle needily on Haruka’s cock. He let his knees fall open, shifting to angle his hips upward to meet Rin’s downward motions. Rin arched his back, thrusting into his own hand mercilessly and foaming the leaking precum into a milky wash that coated his hand. Rin’s technique faltered—clearly he hadn’t studied enough—as his mounting orgasm robbed him of sense, and Haruka slumped onto his back, both hands snapping out to grip Rin’s head firmly in place.

He bit his lip, feeling the coiling need building at the base of his spine, and with a silent apology and cursing Rin for losing his focus, he finished himself off in three short, snapping thrusts into Rin’s mouth, announcing his peak with a strangled gasp that burned his throat and made him clench his eyes shut so tight he saw stars when he opened them again. Rin shook in a jerky jolt, trying to pull away, but Haruka’s muscles were tense and cramped, refusing to release him until he’d emptied himself into Rin’s mouth.

Rin whimpered pitifully, free hand reaching up to grip Haruka’s wrist nearly tight enough to snap it like a twig, and with another body-wracking shudder, he spent himself across the floor, with a few lacy ropes painting Haruka’s thighs where he’d nearly straddled him.

Muscles unclenching as his orgasm washed back out, he finally released his grip on Rin’s head, and Rin lunged away, coughing and wiping his mouth. “ _ Fuck _ , Haru…” he rasped throatily, lips full and swollen and back heaving as he gulped in great breaths of air. “Warn a guy before you’re gonna do that…”

“…I’ll try to remember next time…” he promised unthinkingly, and Rin snorted inelegantly at the implication this would be anything more than a one-off deal.

Rin glanced down at himself, groaning. “Ugh, I got it all over the floor… I better get some tissues or something to clean up with…” He gingerly shifted to his feet—failing twice to actually stand before finally managing it, like a newborn fawn trying to find its feet. If Haruka hadn’t been boneless with release, he might have snickered at the sight. How Rin still had the strength to move after his travels and efforts was beyond Haruka, but perhaps it was just another show of strength.

Had he figured it out now? Had realization come swift on the edge of release? He hoped it had; that would make  _ one _ of them at least. And if it hadn’t…well, they’d enjoyed the effort.

The idea of going back to the same limbo of uncertainty they’d lingered in before this trip, though, set a knot of discomfort coiling in Haruka’s stomach. He couldn’t go throughe this again—another six months, or a year, or more than a year of walking on eggshells around Rin, not knowing what they were or if it even needed defining. He wanted to just go back to…well, to being  _ them _ . To never having to hold back, to going all out, always, in everything they did. He wanted his  _ friend _ back—wanted them to be free to be themselves again.  _ Whatever _ that was.

Rin padded back into the room, wiping his limpening cock dry before sinking to one knee to scrub the evidence of their activities off the floor. “I, uh—umm, I got some there on the—” He nodded to Haruka’s lower half. “There on your leg. Might wanna go rinse off.”

“Oh.” He glanced down, suddenly conscious of his nudity—but Rin was keeping his eyes expertly averted again, and Haruka felt the wary, cautious space opening up between them once more. Like  _ hell _ that was happening. He shifted upright, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them as he watched Rin work. “…When do you go back?”

“Back? Where—Sydney?” A nod, and Rin’s gaze went blank as he combed his mind. “I think…the fourteenth? Fifteenth maybe? Mid-January. Coach wants us back by the third week at latest to prep the National Team members for the Super Series. I can’t participate, obviously, but he says I can still benefit from the training.” He poked Haruka with a toe. “Next year, though. You and me. Team Japan—we’ll kick some ass.” When Haruka didn’t respond, he prodded. “Sad to see me go already?”

“Before you leave…”

“Hm?”

He took a breath, focusing his thoughts. “Before you leave—I’ll take you someplace. Next time.”

Rin frowned, arms crossed over his chest, and cocked his head in confusion as he stared down at Haruka. “Take me someplace? Where?”

He shrugged. “Not sure yet—but someplace…where I can figure it out.”

A long, tense pause stretched between them, and Rin’s arms slid back down to his sides, voice still raw and raspy as he asked, “…Figure out what?”

Haruka shifted to his feet, only wobbling unsteadily once before centering himself, and marched silently into the shower room, beckoning Rin to follow. He doubted Rin had come to any meaningful conclusions just yet. They had plenty more left to explore before they had to rejoin the rest of the world, and checkout was still hours away.


End file.
